Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Free write

It's 10:41 am and rest last night was relatively easy. I watched a DVD that I replayed a few times. Pills helped. The two glasses of wine at dinner helped more. Dinner conversation helped the most.

I did have this weird dream though. I was walking past a tall chain linked fence. On the other side of the fence was a white dog that looked like a wolf. The dog had blue eyes. A blue eyed white wolf dog. Out of nowhere I was carrying a baby. Where did I get a baby? I was afraid to pass the dog. I'm afraid of dogs. People who know me, know this about me. All dogs. Big dogs, small dogs, dogs that "don't bite," dogs that do. They're all the same.

So, I'm carrying this out of the blue baby about to walk in front of this dog wolf, and that there is a fence doesn't matter. Then, there suddenly appears this big black dog next to the white dog and I'm thinking, great! Fuck! And I'm still carrying this baby that is apparently mine. And I'm afraid but I keep walking.

Right now in real life, like not in the dream I am remembering a moment with my father whose wisdom I have grown to appreciate more and more each day. Once when I was a little girl and we lived on Cameron Street in Long Beach, I was walking home from my grandparent's house around the corner. I was one house away from being home when I saw a neighbor's dog on the porch. I, as my usual response to seeing a dog, was very much afraid. I started crying and screaming for my father to come outside. Thankfully he heard me and came outside. To my surprise and disappointment he did not shew the dog away and rescue me. Instead he calmly stood on the porch and kept his eyes on me and the dog. I kept screaming for him to come and get me, but he wouldn't. I didn't understand why. I knew he wasn't afraid of the dog and he knew that I was. This was easy math to me. Then calmly he said to me, in a voice just below my screams, "You have to walk pass the dog on your own, but I'll be right here." And he stuck by his words. He didn't leave the porch. He never took his eyes off of me or the dog. The dog kept barking at me. When I realized my tears were not moving the dog nor my father I began walking. Slowly. Slowly. Then I was away from the dog and ran past my father into the house. I remember being angry at him for not coming to get me. He let me be angry. He let me cry. I didn't understand then how important it was for me to pass the dog on my own.

Back to the dream. So, the black dog is on the side of the fence with the white wolf dog and he showed him how to dig under the fence and escape. I'm frozen. Holding a baby that I'm assuming is a girl because the baby is wrapped in a pink blanket. Now, in real life not in the dream, I'm thinking about Sunday night at Red Stories when Donny, who is a psychologist (in addition to being a brilliant poet) interviewed me on stage. He asked me about Robin (my given name) and I referred to and often refer to as being a child. So maybe I was like, protecting her. Anyway, I'm standing at the fence holding my baby self watching the big black dog show the white wolf dog how to escape and in seconds both dogs are free. The black dog disappears and the white wolf dog comes after me. I turn around running with my baby self screaming. Then suddenly I don't have the baby anymore and the wolf dog turns into a tall Nigerian man who is chasing me through a long hallway in a house with black women dressed in African clothes. An old friend of mine, Star, is in the dream and we are both running from the white wolf dog turned Nigerian tall man. One of the women catches him by wrapping some fabric around his neck like a rope. He is chocking and I do not want to see him die. None of us want the man to die but we know that if we do not kill him, he will kill all of us.

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